Double click on an image and it will pull up a slideshow. You can drag the cursor over an image to see text describing the image, written by the artist.
Women in Prison Yard
I was haunted by the faces of some young Kurdish boys arrested and sitting outside the prison.
While in prison, the Islamic regime tried to pressure us into taking their belief system. Sometimes it felt like my body and mind were being penetrated by their thoughts and beliefs. It was so much pressure that I felt like my body was being severed.
Female Prisoners in the Prison Yard
In prison, they treated us like animals. We had to remind each other about our humanity.
When I was in prison, I used to wish that I could peek out over the prison walls and see the word outside.
When we work together, we will be able to overcome oppression.
When we were in solitary confinement, we often talked to each other by tapping on the walls.
This picture represents the struggle of the people of Iran. The red represents the blood that was shed in the struggle for justice. The sun represents the possibility of hope. Out of the sacrifice of the people and the warmth of hope comes new growth. Our work has not been in vain.
This is a picture of a woman in prison. She is vulnerable and alone. The government has tried to silence her.
This is a woman caught between a rock and a hard place and she is still dancing.
One day I visited my aunt in prison and she gave me a doll that she had made me.
A peaceful morning
Women taking care of children
When I was in prison, there were many times that I saw scenes like this- a mullah and a prison guard lining up women for execution. Sometimes the officials would carry through the executions but other times they would use a “fake” execution as a tool to try and break prisoners.
We must continue to fight against opporession in its many forms.
In prison, we had to split ourselves in two to survive- we had to separate our bodies from our minds, so that we could continue to grow.
There were times in prison when I felt like a scream was the only way to express myself.
This picture is of my daughter. I see her trapped by mental illness. She currently lives at CAMH and is struggling with schizophrenia. She is imprisoned just like I was imprisoned in Iran. My heart breaks for her because I don’t know how to set her free.